In the Cave
by peeniss464
Summary: A cute moment for Peeta and Katniss in the cave during the Hunger Games where she finally realizes her true feelings. ONESHOT


**Hi guys! This is my first fan fiction. Let me know what you think!**

I lie in the sleeping bag with Peeta. My head rests on his warm chest, burning from the fever. I wrap my arm around his torso, hoping to pull all the pain away from his body. I feel so helpless. I should be able to do more. There must be some secret herb my mom used to use to cure people that can be found in these woods. I hate myself for not paying close enough attention to the details she used to throw around whenever she got a new patient.

Peeta is dying in my arms and unless a miracle happens, I won't be able to save him. But I have to. I have to save him. If I leave the games without Peeta—I don't even want to think about that or the possibility of that.

I hold onto him tighter.

Peeta shudders in his sleep and I know his fever is getting worse. Even as he's deep in sleep, I can see the paint stitched in between his eyebrows, pulling on his features. I guess I never realized how attractive Peeta is. Even in the dim light of the cave and even though his face is caked with dried on dirt and blood from miscellaneous scrapes, Peeta is really handsome.

Before the announcement that there could be two victors, I thought of Peeta as my competition. But now, we're a team.

Haymitch has me playing up the romance thing with Peeta, but a part ofme really thinks that Peeta is in love with me.

The thought scares and repulses me.

Who would ever be in love with me? I'm hardly a girl as it is. I'm not beautiful, I'm not sexy, I'm not anything. I'm a survivor. But for Peeta to tell the entire world that he has been in love with me since the moment he met me is absurd. But in the back of my mind, I know that he wasn't just making it up for the cameras. His eyes are too honest for that. Peeta really meant it.

And I know that deep in my heart, I am starting to fall for Peeta too.

I feel safe around him. And every single time I kiss him, I want to do it more. I'm scared to because I feel like Peeta will think I'm overdoing it for the cameras but if I could kiss Peeta for hours in this cave, alone, I would be satisfied.

I reach up and touch his burning face with my ice cold hand. To my surprise, he grabs a hold of it and keeps it to his face. I can see his lips turn up into a smile.

"That feels nice," he croaks, his voice thick with sleep.

"Sorry for waking you," I whisper. "I was just checking your fever."

"How do I feel, doc?" Peeta jokes, but I can tell he's really in pain.

I don't say anything. I don't want him to have to worry about it right now. I hate Haymitch for not sending us medicine but I understand money is hard to come by. I hate the games more than anything right now. I wish I didn't have to meet Peeta like this—his last lifeline. If we didn't need each other to survive we probably wouldn't even be in the cave together right now. If I wasn't in the games, Peeta still would have been watching me from afar in town, keeping his feelings to himself and I would have probably never experienced this feeling in my life.

The feeling of complete happiness. It seems almost barbaric that I could actually be happy while in the Hunger Games. Kids killing kids and yet, I am perfectly happy being next to Peeta.

Peeta reaches out and brushes a piece of my hair behind my ear.

For the first time in a while, I worry about how I look. I haven't been in the lake in days and have been trekking through the forest. I touch my braid which is matted in dirt and knotted into a nest. I brush my hand over my face and see dirt come off onto my hands. How could anyone look at me like Peeta is right now and see me as beautiful? It doesn't make sense to me.

But still, he keeps his eyes on mine and smiles. His teeth, the best thing I've seen since we got here. They are perfect and the moment I see them, I am filled with joy and happiness and hope. Peeta is happy. Then I'm happy. That's all that matters.

"Do you mind if I look?" I ask, gesturing towards his leg.

Peeta seems dissatisfied that our gazing has come to an abrupt stop but he is able to wiggle his way out of the sleeping bag to expose his leg.

It's just as disgusting as I had last looked at it. Pussing with green liquid, inflamed and red, his skin surrounding it bruised, and I can make out the shiny white part of his bone Cato has cut to. Peeta looks at it too.

"Well that's disgusting," he says with a smile.

I stare intently at it. "You're going to be fine, Peeta. We just have to wait for Haymitch to send us some medicine. You'll be fine."

He rolls his eyes, "Katniss, we're not going to get medicine. Well—I'm not. No sponsor will send me any."

I feel tears well up in my eyes and immediately feel like an idiot. I know this will lose me sponsors, not gain them, but I can't help it. It's hard to not act like a human for such a long period of time.

I can't stop crying. I'm crying for Peeta's sake. His leg only has a few days left before it will be immobile or the blood poison will reach deeper than just his calf and it will kill him. I'm crying because I don't want Peeta to die because then I'll be alone and probably end up letting Cato kill me because I won't want to live anymore. I'm crying because I hate the government and what they are doing to people; changing them into savages. I'm crying because I want Peeta to know how I really feel about him but I don't want then entire world to know my real feelings, plus Peeta might think I'm only doing it for show which would really kill me inside.

I've never felt like this before, and to be honest, I've never wanted to feel like this before.

I've done everything I can in my life to avoid these kind of emotions and here, in this cave, on national television they are hitting every TV screen in the country. I can only wonder what Prim, or my mother, or Gale is thinking right now. They probably think I'm weak and honestly I think that too. I'm not strong enough to win the games. I'm not strong enough to do anything.

I have been so lost in my own thoughts that I didn't even notice Peeta had grabbed me and pulled me into his arms. I cry into his chest while he smoothes the back of my hair. I can't even remember the last time I really cried. It hurts my throat and makes me feel light-headed.

Peeta tries to calm me down my rubbing my hair, my back, and even my leg. He wipes away my tears as they fall onto my cheeks, but it's no use because they are followed by new, fresh tears moments after.

The only thing I can get a grip on in my mind right now is that I am happy to be with Peeta. He is here. I can't control if he is going to die, if Haymitch is going to send medicine, if the Gamemakers are going to send a tornado to wash us away, if a knife is going to pierce through my hear at any minute, or anything else. The only thing I can worry about right now is that I have Peeta with me and I deserve to have the last bit of happiness before I die.

I pull his face towards mine as I see the worry on his face over the fact that I'm still crying. And I kiss him.

I don't kiss him in the way I have been kissing him, to keep the audience interested. I kiss him like I only have a few minutes left and I want to get every bit of pleasure out of the moment that I can. Peeta seems startled. I would be too. I'm acting like a crazy person. Crying over a leg and then attacking him with kisses. I can't explain it either so I just roll with it. And Peeta rolls with it too. Apparently he doesn't find much to object to in the situation.

He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me closer to him, deepening our kiss. I've never experienced something like this. This feeling of want and need. I wrap both of my arms around Peeta's neck and continue to kiss him. I feel his warm hands touch my wrist and he is burning. And strangely, so am I. I'm flushed with embarrassment, thinking I'm doing this wrong. I must be doing something wrong if our tongues keep fighting in our mouths. But I like it. And Peeta seems to like it so maybe I'm doing something wrong.

I try and climb on top of him, but I feel him wince in pain underneath me. I immediately jump back, not wanting to hurt him further. How stupid of me to hit his leg! The one thing I had to look out for. I guess I just couldn't control myself. I suddenly flush with embarrassment and wipe away the last of my tears.

Peeta just laughs, and I can't understand why. Is he making fun of me?

"Where did that come from?" Peeta asks, brushing the back of his hair in confusion.

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I just sit on the cave floor, confused at my own actions.

Peeta reaches forward and grabs my hand, pulling me closer to him. "I'm sorry my leg stopped you," he whispers. The audience probably didn't even hear what he said which would be enough to drive them crazy. "Let's pick that back up when we're not being filmed."

I bite my lip and smile.

He leans forward and kisses my lips one more time, still smiling. "So we better win this," he says.

I press my forehead against his. Peeta Mellark really is going to save my life.


End file.
